Six week post partum follow-up visit and how they don't want any unplanned pregnancies and my epiphany

The wolfette is 6 and a half weeks old today and is absolutely REFUSING to sleep for more than 15 minutes at a stretch today.

This makes me very tired.



Yawn.

I had my 6 week post partum follow-up visit today. I foolishly scheduled the appointment for 9 AM. That would have been fine in my pre-wolfette life, but now, it's hard to get anywhere before 10 o'clock with a wolfette in tow. (Case in point, it took me three days to write and publish this post)

We finally got there a few minutes after 9. We settle into the waiting room and I whip out the boob to silence, I mean feed her. Because this is America, or maybe a public doctor's office, no, mainly because this is America, I drape a covering over the babe/boob, lest any one in the gynaecologists office waiting room be offended by me breastfeeding my baby. Hey, you never know. Just cos you're at the gynae's doesn't mean you're down with a boob in your line of sight. Unless, of course, it's your mid-morning snack.

They call me in and I continue feeding her. The nurselady says, "Let us know when you're done and we'll take your blood pressure and weight".

"OK."

Wolfette finishes and I put her back in the carseat and sprint out to pee. Time is of the essence here (and everywhere else for that matter), gotta take care of business while she sleeps.

Nurse come in to take my BP (good) weight (Woot! WAY less than @eloy will EVAH be)

Then she asks me what form of birth control I'll be using.

"Uh, wha? I don't plan on ever having sex again."

"Does your husband know about this?"

"Not yet, but he will."

"Uh huh."

Waiting, waiting for the NP to come see me. She finally arrives and that's when Ms. Fusspot starts to stir. I'm going through my list of questions when NP asks me what form of birth control I'll be using.

"Um, ya, I don't plan on ever having sex again."

"Does your husband know about this?"

"Not yet, but he will."

"Well then."

They are really serious about planned parenthood here.

The wolfette begins to awaken. End up having to cuddle the squeaking grrl while the NP is inspecting the "parts".

I believe this is my new life. Breastfeeding in the dentist chair, holding her while I'm in the stirrups. It all takes a bit of getting used to.

Which brings me to my epiphany (thank gawd, you're thinking, cos this is one helluva long post, cheese and rice), where I realised that

1. My whole life has changed - ya, I knew that it would change but I couldn't quite imagine how it would change and how it would affect me.

2. It's hard saying goodbye to the old me. For reals. I never thought that it would be as tough as it has been, afterall, I'm me and I can do ANYTHING. Let me tell you, having a baby really turned that on its ear.

Some days are better than others.

I've never been able to ever allow any vulnerability or weakness to show cos, you know, I'm a "real tough chick".

Ya, well, I have to let it show through cos it's the smart thing to do. I'm a make it but I do have to keep reminding myself that I will and that I'm making it everyday.

OK.

That's the end of the long ass post. Please discuss amongst yourselves.

Represent!

Kiran lounges on the Boppy pillow.

How could you not love that face?

LOVE IT.

So not crazy

OK. I've decided that I'm not crazy, well, at least not that crazy.

I just read "It sucked and then I cried: How I had a baby, a breakdown and a much needed margarita" (cover to cover in three days) by Heather Armstrong. Now *that* woman was crazy (certifiable) but oh so brave in her insanity. (Thank you Heather)

It's been five weeks since Kiran was born and I can honestly say that I was completely not prepared for the absolute horror of postpartum. ABSOLUTE HORROR.

If you ask me now about having a baby, I will say DON'T DO IT people! RUN! Run away!

No one can really prepare you for what it is really like. I can't even describe it. I don't think I have a bad baby or a colicky baby. I think I have a normal baby. Normal newborn babies scream. All. The. Time.

Yeah, you're thinking you know that babies scream, but unless you've actually had a child, there's just no way to express how the screaming, the what seems like non-stop screaming makes you feel.

Well, let me tell you, it makes you feel like you want to punch babies (no babies have EVER been punched by me) and that makes you ca-ray-zee. That makes you scream and slam doors and cry. And then feel guilty for slamming doors and crying and feeling crazy. As well as for wanting to return the baby, except that there's no one to return her to because she is yours. Which of course just leaves you feeling like a horrible shell of a woman masquerading as a mother.

Well now.

On the bright side, my horrid rash has left me. The doctors didn't know what caused it but I do. Obviously, I'm allergic to screaming newborn babies.

The screaming has gotten less and now there new more gentle sounds and sometimes, sometimes, there's a beautiful, pure smile that makes you forget about the screaming for a little while.

The other thing that could help you forget is a drink. Or well maybe a while lotta drinks. But I can't have a drink because I have elevated liver enzymes which are supposedly unrelated to the rash but I really think it is. I hope these enzymes go down so I can have a glass of wine or at least a Tylenol for fuck's sake.

You know that's not too much to ask., now is it?

So there you have it, people. I'm just a little bit crazy.

Right?

Chocolate through the mail

Who sends chocolates through the mail? Um, well, Suzanne does!

Woot!

Why does she send chocolates through the mail to me? Cos I asked peeps to and she ACTUALLY did!

Woot woot!

The chocolate was from Starbucks and it has some coffee in it and its dark chocolate so it has some extra caffeine in it with coffee and yes I have just had some of this chocolate.

Thank you Suzanne!!

Hungry like the wolf

Cheese and rice, I'm hungry. I saw on the Today show that when you don't get enough sleep, you eat more than you would if you got enogh sleep. I think it was Jillian Trainer Chick from the Biggest Loser who was talking about it, though it may not have been, cos let's face it, I'm not even sure what day it is right now.

If it's true, then it doesn't bode well for me. I'm hungry all the time and EATING or thinking about eating. Right now, I'm thinking about eating a nutella sandwich. It's been days since I had one and days since I was having two a day.

I assure you, I will have one as soon as I'm done writing this.

Which is right now.

Oh yeah, bebe is fine and also hungry like a wolfette.

Gotta go eat something now.

I will not feed my baby to dingos

OK. So it seems that my last post made some people in my real life a little nervous. Don't worry IRL peeps, I will not feed my baby to a dingo. I will continue to say how I feel, though, cos if I stop doing that, then, I really might start looking for a dingo...

In other news, Ray and I watched the Happiest Baby on the Block DVD and are now practising the five "S"s to calm a crying baby.

1. Swaddle
2. Side or stomach position
3. Shushing
4. Swing
5. Sucking

I have to say, the shit actually works.

We need to get a good sized blankie for swaddling cos apparently the 17 blankies that we have are all the wrong size. We have a new fangled swaddle contraption, but it doesn't work that well on Kiran. I think mainly cos she's so lean and long.

She is starting to discover her world around her. Looking at stuff and following you with her eyes. She also has beautiful periods of quiet alertness.

The cats are not at all interested in Kiran, though Tigey did let me know how he feels about formula feeding by peeing on the Similac bag that they gave us at the hopital.

Tigey says Breast is best!

No return address

Kiran is four weeks old and what a flipping four weeks its been. This motherhood shit is flipping hard AND it hurts.

Shoulders hurt. Fingers hurt. Thumbs hurt. Wrists hurt. And of course boobs hurt, specifically, the pointy tip of the boob, and the one boob hurts more than the other. WTF is up with that?

That's just the physical pain. The emotional anguish is much more painful. What with daily feelings up misery coupled with despair and a sprinkling of joy with maybe two drops of happy. I spent much of the first few days turning the little one over and around trying to find the Return To Sender address but there was no address to be found.

Dammit.

In the meantime, I've taken advantage of the excellent and FREE post-partum services offered by the Woman's Hospital of Texas. The have a weekly New Mom Lactation group, Pregnancy and Post-Partum Depression Group, and a New Parents Group. I've been going to all three (you don't want me to go all Andrea Yates on your ass, now do you?) and yes that means that I've been packing up Kiran and driving to the Hospital twice a week to see the outside and talk to other adults or at least, you know, look at other adults talk to each other.

Trust me, all my single ladies, this is no small feat considering the child has a pathalogical HATE of the car seat. If you were standing by a window outside our house when we are putting Kiran into the car seat, you would no doubt call 911, Texas Department of Child Protective Services, the FBI, and maybe Animal Control (she sounds like a cat sometimes).

While I'm not torturing Kiran by putting her in the carseat, I am feeding her (every two hours, 24 hours a day) and waiting and praying for her to go to sleep. The kind of deep sleep where I can lay her in the crib and she doesn't wake up five minutes later screaming.

Which is what I'm doing right now. She's on the boob and I'm cradling her and typing this on my Blackberry. What? You did'nt expect me to be at a computer do you?

Hopefully she be asleep soon so I can get out of bed, wash my face, brush my teeth and have some breaky cos I'm starving. And, oh yeah, pee.

OK. I think she's ready. I'm going to attempt to swaddle her.

Pray for me.